


Oh, Nostalgia

by wirewrappedlily



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is Good with Kids, Happy birthday to the grumpiest wolf, M/M, especially when that kid is supposedly eighteen and Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:21:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wirewrappedlily/pseuds/wirewrappedlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello, Scott, thanks for covering with the Sheriff while Lydia, who is my pack, sorts out what happened while we keep your girlfriend's father from trying to kill me in front of a three-year-old who put himself in the path of a crossbow bolt to try to keep me safe. What can I do for you this evening?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to thegrumpiestwolf, our beloved Katka. I sincerely hope you enjoy this.
> 
> In the immortal words of the New York Times while reviewing Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series: Don't ask, just read it.

It's not really a surprise that the pack wants to celebrate their graduation (Stiles thinks it's more celebrating that they survived to graduation), but it is a bit of a surprise when the massive, blowout party that Stiles could see coming turned out to be dinner and a bonfire and movies, just the pack and their humans. 

When Scott gets a snarky invite from Erica that's confirmed by Isaac, Stiles knows he's not the one that's going to be going as Scott's plus one. Allison and he are attached to each other again, and Allison's better proof against the wolves than Stiles could ever hope to be, and all that aside, Scott barely talks to him anymore, so it's only fitting that it's her he goes with. 

What Stiles doesn't expect is for Erica to drop literally into his lap and smile down at him, kissing the tip of his nose and purring seductively that he's coming, too, if she has to knock him out with a car part and drag him there herself. Boyd doesn't even seem to mind that she's in his lap, and Isaac just looks at him like he's insane to look shocked, "You're pack, you idiot." Jackson snorts, and Lydia smiles reassuringly at him. Erica spends the entirety of lunch in his lap, and Scott's scowling daggers by the time the bell goes, Isaac the only member of Hale pack really paying him any mind while they all sit with Stiles. 

"I don't want the bite," Stiles murmured to Erica, and she shoots him a look that screams 'no shit' as she flounces off his lap and grabs up his bag and takes an arm, "no amount of pulling me into the circle---"

"Stiles, we're not trying to seduce you into becoming one of the Lost Boys. Isaac just told us how much of an ass Scott's been to you lately, and we were trying to keep our distance so we didn't strain you two. You're too useful to alienate, and Derek would be furious if he found out you've been Mr. Mopey-pants lately because the donut is too busy with Xena." Erica shrugged, "He wants you to come, actually. I was kind of shocked when you made the list of people to make sure are coming. Other than you, it's me, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, and Boyd." 

Stiles may have gone into shock. Just a little. 

"We'll see you there, at the house, next week--or else, Stiles." Erica purred, handing him his bag outside his class and trailing the boys after her, and Stiles couldn't help but smile, heartened thoroughly. 

Stiles hadn't seen the Hale house completed in the remodel. He'd been there during the goblin scare in the last third, but that was it. Now, though, it kind of took his breath away to look at it. Sliding out of the driver's side of the Jeep, Stiles nearly got the air knocked out of him as appeared from the bushes, seizing him out of the path of Jackson's artfully fishtailing Ferrari as it skidded to a stop on the loose gravel road. Derek snarled around him, eyes going red and fangs running out, and Lydia looked like she was about doing the same, smacking Jackson hard and storming out of the car, yanking Stiles out of Derek's grasp and into a hug. For a moment, Stiles thought Derek wasn't going to let him go. Lydia began to herd him around the house for the backyard. A firepit was built into the centre of a small, white circle of stone benches, firewood stacked neatly along the side of the house and a second small pile nearer to the pit. There wasn't much by way of garden, but with a pack of puppies like Derek's, there was no way a garden would really survive. Isaac and Boyd were wrestling, Erica stepping out from the sliding glass door in a white sundress, her hair caught up sweetly and her smile far less threatening without the red lipstick. She walked down from the raised patio carrying a tray of bonfire supplies, balancing it on one hip to kiss his cheek and take the arm Lydia didn't have, leading him down to the pit. "What happened?" 

"Jackson." Lydia growled, scowling as they deposited Stiles on one of the benches, Lydia sliding down to lean against his legs, sitting on the ground. Erica set the tray on a table near the wood pile, slipping onto one of the seats beside him and laying her head on his shoulder. 

Allison and Scott appeared hours later, while Stiles and Lydia were chasing Isaac down with water guns and Erica, Boyd, and Derek were cooking over the open fire, Jackson sulking for being torn a new one by both Alpha and girlfriend. Isaac zeroed in on Scott, but before Stiles could let it hit him, again, that Isaac had replaced him, Erica was tackling him and taking the water gun, teaming up against him with Lydia. Boyd heaved him to his feet, silently going for one while Stiles made a play for the other, both girls shrieking with laughter. Derek called dinner a few minutes later, Stiles soaked and hanging between Lydia and Erica, the three of them laughing too hard to really be able to walk on their own, tromping their way up to the table on the patio, Jackson, Boyd, and Isaac carrying the food up after them and Derek following Scott and Allison with a pained patience as they stuttered and stumbled through the social awkwardness. "I haven't had this much fun in far too long." Stiles admitted, grinning and tightening his arms around the girls, hugging. Erica flounced into her seat beside Boyd, sharing a brilliant smile with him as their hands met on the tabletop. Lydia put Stiles beside the head of the table, dropping into the other seat beside him, smiling almost evilly as Derek took the seat at the head of the table. 

"I only did this because you're graduating, and I'm proud of you for it. There are three bottles, and this is the special stuff. If you get drunk, you spend the night here. Understood?" Derek confirmed, pulling out a bottle of werewolf-friendly champagne and uncorking it. The table agreed in a round, passing glasses for Derek to pour it out and pass the glasses back along, everyone settling in to the smell of mouthwatering food, citronella, and a summer evening near the woods. 

Stiles raised his glass once everyone had one, resolving that this would be his only, "I want to propose a toast." He announced, and Derek seemed to be willing to indulge him at least, "We survived!" Everyone slowly started to melt to titters, shrugging and nodding in agreement, reiterating the toast, and clinking glasses before they drank. 

Dinner passed with laughter and collectively horrifying stories from their exploits that none of them would like to live through again, but all of them managed to crack a smile at, even Allison, who looked as though she'd sucked on a lemon most of the night, flicking hateful glances at Derek. Stiles took the seat next to Derek down at the fire pit, their sides close enough to touch, and if Derek shook just a little while he stared into the flames, Stiles wouldn't blame him. "Thanks for coming." Derek muttered, stoking the flames expertly, his jaw tight. 

"Are you kidding? This is the best night I've had in a long, long time. Thank you for inviting me." Stiles smiled, nudging his shoulder against Derek's, "It's...I can't thank you enough." Derek looked angry and sad, glancing over at Scott and Allison, "It's okay, you know. I should have known before that we'd grow apart." Stiles shrugged, "I wish we were still the same people, but we're not, and maybe that's for the best." Derek glanced at him from under his lashes, his lips twitching. "Shut up, I can be wise." 

Derek snorted, shaking his head, and Stiles laughed softly. "Derek, we should get started on the s'mores, I've sufficiently digested." Erica called from Boyd's lap, laying across one of the benches with her legs on Lydia's lap as Lydia talked to Allison to break the tension. 

Growling about being surrounded by children, Derek stood up, waving Stiles off from going with him. Jackson sat down on the other side of Stiles, turning his head, to half-look at him, "I'm sorry. About the car...earlier."

It might have been the maturity afforded him from knowing that he was welcome, or it could have been the fact that he'd really just grown up, but Stiles just smiled at Jackson, nodding. "You know...if I could go back and tell my younger self...that it's going to be alright, that I'm going to survive high school and be best friends with the smartest damn girl in the world and have Jackson Whittemore actually talk to me without it being a sneer, I would." 

What happened next not even Jackson could really track and he was the best suited to see what happened. One minute, an eighteen-year-old Stiles Stilinski was getting nostalgic with his friends around him, and the next there was a three year old that looked an awful lot like Stiles that was starting to hyperventilate. "Stiles!" Scott yelled, up and headed for them, and Stiles squeaked in fear, almost falling over the back of the bench to get away, running directly into Derek's legs. Stiles's breathing was hiccoughing, surrounded by these strange grown ups all of a sudden, that knew what nickname Miss Rose the Day Care Teacher had given him when she couldn't quite get his name right and neither could he. He was going into meltdown, like a big baby, and he was just so scared. 

And then Derek took one look from the child to the advancing pack, and shifted into full Alpha form, bumping his head lightly against Stiles's tiny little chest to make him focus on the big, fluffy grey wolf nosing at him. Derek felt little hands on his muzzle, then burying into his hair, the hiccoughs slowly easing out as Stiles hid himself beside the wolf's big head. The risk-benefit ratio of shifting back to talk to Stiles to calm him down wasn't looking so great, and his Betas were inching forward and simultaneously pinning back Scott and Allison. He shook his head at them, staring them down, and then he turned his head, prodding at Stiles with his muzzle, catching the gunpowder and sickness of black magic on his scent and whining at it. Stiles wrapped his little arms around Derek's neck as much as he could, trying to soothe him. Derek really should not have been surprised at that. 

"Stiles…?" Lydia calls softly, crouched down. "My name is Lydia, and that wolf? His name is Derek--"

"Stiles! Stiles, it's me--it's Scott!" Scott spoke up, and Stiles's features twisted, anger mixing with the smell of little kid and Stiles. 

"You're a liar!" Stiles accused, "Scott's smaller 'n me!" 

"You're hugging a wolf that was a man a moment ago, Stiles. Can this just be weird?" Lydia bargained. Stiles turned his face to hide in Derek's neck, and the wolf wanted to curl up and protect like it was an ache. Derek looked at Lydia, turning his head to the house and looking back, and she nodded that she understood, focussing on Stiles again. 

"Stiles, you should come home with me, it's not sa--"

Stiles turned his head just enough to scowl at Scott from over the messy, soft scruff of fur. "You're not Scott, I don't like you!" Stiles stomped his foot and the only reason he didn't fall on his ass was because he was holding onto Derek. Scott broke through Boyd and Jackson, storming forwards, and fear spiked through Stiles's scent. Derek reacted immediately and purely on instinct, snapping his jaws at Scott and growling thunderously, on the defensive. The Betas reacted instantly, closing around Scott and Allison and cutting them both of by force if necessary, while Lydia stood between the commotion and where Stiles was clinging onto Derek's scruff. 

"McCall, you fucking donut! He's three years old, and he's still smarter than you. Either get him out of here, Argent, or you're both going to end up kibble. Stiles doesn't want to go with you, and he doesn't have to. He's safer here, anyways, and your mom would be really happy to have your three-year-old best friend suddenly staying over, wouldn't she?" Lydia snapped out, snarling more than Derek was. "Get your head out of your ass and get your ass out of here. Now!" 

The others dragged Scott and Allison off towards the cars, and Lydia turned to Derek, still growling, and Stiles, a panicky hiccough in his breathing that Derek didn't like one bit. 

"Stiles, can Derek change back? Will you be alright if he does that for a little while?" Stiles nodded, Derek could feel it from where Stiles was pressed against his side, tiny and shivering like he was cold. He wouldn't relinquish his hold, though--too scared--and Derek managed to scoop an arm under him while Lydia brought over a blanket, wrapping it around his waist while he balanced the panicking little boy. Stiles sat easily in the cradle of his arm, his nose buried under Derek's jaw as he walked up to the house steadily. "How did you…?" Lydia asked quietly, having put out the fire and caught up easily enough. 

"I had little siblings, younger cousins." The loss wasn't in his voice, Stiles's quiet, scared sobs pressed into his neck as he clung on just as hard as those little fingers had clung onto the fur. "Distraction is the best way to divert a panic attack, and what's more distracting than a giant, grey monster?" 

"You're no monster, Derek. You look like a real wolf when you shift. A wolf that was hit with some sort of growth ray, but a wolf." Lydia opened the door to the spare room closest to Derek's, but he hesitated, and she flashed with realization. Lydia opened his bedroom door, and Derek carried Stiles inside, sitting down with him still as he was. Stiles slowly let go, sitting back on Derek's leg and rubbing his eyes furiously, trying to dash away the tears. Lydia cooed softly to get his attention, a warm, damp face cloth in her hand. She wiped his face softly and crouched in front of them, looking up at him with bright eyes, "You tired?" Stiles nodded shakily, "Now, I know this is a strange place, and we're strangers to you, but do you think it'll be okay if you stay here with Derek?" 

Stiles tilted his chin up to look at Derek over his shoulder, and it was so strange to see the foundations of Stiles as they knew him, already in his young face, "Will you turn back into the wolf again?" 

"If you want me to." Derek offered, ducking his chin down a little. 

"You don' hafta, but--" Stiles cut himself off, biting his lower lip and looking shifty. 

"But I'm pretty cuddly when I'm a wolf, aren't I? All that soft fur?" Derek teased softly, knowing that was what Stiles didn't want to say. Stiles wrinkled his nose, nodding, and Lydia giggled softly.

"I'll grab a spare toothbrush from one of the guest rooms and get Jackson to stop off to pick up some kid-sized clothes?" 

"Thanks, Lydia." Derek murmured, smiling slightly. Stiles was poking at his bicep, frowning pensively, and only a three-year-old Stiles Stilinski could look pensive. "What?" 

"You've got big muscles. My daddy doesn't even have muscles this big, and he's a superhero." 

"Is he?" Derek asked softly, carefully dislodging shrunken shoes from Stiles's miniaturized feet, setting them down beside the bed. "Does he beat the bad guys and save the day?" Stiles nodded once, looking set and serious. "Are you gonna be a superhero when you grow up?"

Stiles's face creased in thought for a moment, frowning, and then he shook his head no, hard enough that he was probably dizzy. Derek steadied him carefully, picking him up again easily and letting Lydia make her goodbyes, kissing Stiles on the tip of his upturned little nose. He made a sound of disgust because girls were gross, ducking against Derek's arm and rubbing furiously at his nose. Derek chuckled, raising him up and ducking down a little to kiss the tip of his nose, too, before he rubbed it _off_. "Does that get rid of girl-germs?"

"Yes, but don't tell Lydia or my friend Erica that I said they have germs, because girls are actually kind of cool." Derek walked into the cavernous en suite bathroom, depositing Stiles on the counter. "We don't have any special toothpaste, I'm afraid." Stiles shrugged, grabbing the correct toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste, his mouth doing something incomprehensible as he tried to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush only a little bit. "I'm impressed!" Derek announced, nodding in approval as Stiles beamed up at him. "Now, be careful that you go lightly, because this toothbrush is new, so it's a little bit harder than your toothbrush, isn't it?" Stiles nodded vigorously, his hand barely moving the bristles over his tiny teeth, wincing wide into the mirror to see what he was doing. Derek tried to bite back a smile, getting his own toothbrush ready and brushing his own teeth, watching Stiles out of the corner of his eye as he watched and tried to copy what Derek was doing. Stiles spat into the sink after Derek did, almost braining himself in a near-miss of a headbutt. Derek helped Stiles down off the counter, setting him down and shifting. Stiles gasped, not really having been able to look the first time. He slowly walked over, and Derek headbutted his hand when he reached it palm out a few inches from his head. Stiles giggled, getting closer and nuzzling into the soft fur, squeaking only a little bit as Derek mindfully gathered a mouthful of shirt and pants, lifting him off the ground by the scruff that wasn't there, like a pup, and carrying him into the bedroom, bounding onto the bed in one leap and laying Stiles down by the pillows while he shrieked and gasped and sputtered. 

Derek laid down placidly, his front paws folded and his muzzle resting on them, watching as Stiles squirmed and wriggled until he was under the covers to his liking. Derek crept over slowly, letting Stiles pet his head and scratch his ears as his yawns started to drag out and his eyes started to droop closed for long bouts. By the time Stiles was asleep, Derek was on his side with his back to the boy, his great big head lying on the boy's chest and Stiles's hands still tangled in his fur. Derek fell asleep listening to Stiles's heart beat against his ear, feeling oddly content for the first time in a long time. 

Morning came gently enough, Derek waking first, shifting in his walk-in closet and pulling on a pair of sweats to go make breakfast in. 

Jackson and Lydia arrived to find Derek mostly covered in flour, Stiles shrieking with laughter in a powdered sugar mess, the both of them eating the fruits of their labour happily, pancakes fluffy and perfect considering the nuclear bomb that appeared to have gone off during the cooking process. Lydia kissed Stiles's cheek, then let him wipe the powdered sugar off the tip of her nose, smiling at him. "How'd you sleep?" She asked gently, and he beamed at her, squirming to get out of her grip and run around some more. 

"Good!" He chirped, twisting and leaping onto Derek like there wasn't a shadow of a doubt Derek would turn from Jackson and catch him. "I like sleeping with the wolf." 

"Fluffier than a teddy bear." Lydia laughed in agreement, and Derek shot her a half-hearted look over Stiles's head. "Since you are already so covered in mess, I don't see why you and Derek shouldn't go and play outside. I'll clean up in here and get something started for later, you two go have fun." Derek looked at Stiles, eyebrows raised in silent question. 

Stiles nodded his head in one decisive, possibly brain-rattling movement, and Derek bent, putting him down on the ground, "I'll be right back." Derek slipped into the washroom, and Lydia let out the wolf a moment later, folding his shirked pants while he nosed and growled playfully at the wildly giggling little boy. Lydia couldn't help grinning at the sight as Derek licked on long stripe over the entire side of Stiles's head, leaving his hair matted and sticking up on one side, cleared completely of powdered sugar. Stiles shrieked, looking shocked, and he burst into giggles, running for the sliding door and outside in a definite 'chase me' sort of way. Derek looked up at Lydia, and she could only shrug, shaking her head to signify that it was up to him what he did with that, and Derek took off with a soft wuff of air, scampering out and catching Stiles by the back of his clothes again, sliding into a controlled tumble down the stairs and depositing him in the grass safely. Stiles froze, watching him like the threat of being licked meant his life, and Derek gave a wolfy grin, sliding down onto his belly on the grass and crossing his paws over his eyes, flicking his tail in a steady beat like he was counting. Stiles gasped and started running, trying very hard not to giggle. 

Stiles was a wild, uncontrollable flurry of activity, running and laughing and shrieking in delight from one end of the back yard to the other, slowing down only after two hours of playing tag with a werewolf. Derek was laying down and hiding his eyes again when he felt Stiles's tiny form collapse against his side, little fingers gripping fistfuls of fur as he rubbed his face into Derek's shoulder, humming sleepily, "I really like you a lot. Can we be friends? I know you're old and I'm little, but I wanna be your friend. Maybe even your best friend. Scott's my best friend, but he's so silly sometimes. He always says stuff he shouldn't and sometimes he's mean, though Miss Rose says he doesn't mean to be." Stiles sounded small and sad. Derek nudged him gently, curling up around him. Stiles rubbed his ears, the back of his head, "When the other kids are mean to me, though, Scott gets mad at them. And I get mad when they're mean to Scott, like you did last night when you made that growly noise. It was scary, but you were protecting me." Stiles bent his head, burying his face into Derek's scruff, and the wolf in Derek hummed in happiness, perfectly okay with this tiny human being at his neck. "I think you could be my bestest best friend. Scott's still my best, but you're even more important than him. I like you that much." Stiles yawned. Stiles touched Derek's tongue, feeling the roughness of the wolf's tongue, how it was kind of dry but kind of not, and Derek let him hold onto it between his little fingers, the look of inquisitiveness kind of amusing to the Alpha. 

"Stiles! Derek! Lunch!" Lydia called from the house, and Stiles got to his feet, mindful of Derek's fur and his tail, keeping one hand on Derek's flank to steady himself on the stairs, Derek's muzzle nudging him up gently when he wobbled. Lydia sat at the top of the stairs, smiling at them, "Good job, little man. High five!" Lydia high fived him, then scooped him up in the same movement, cackling like an evil queen. "And now that I have you trapped, you have to have a bath because you are completely filthy! Muhahaha!" Stiles squeaked, looking to Derek, and Lydia shook her head, dancing them over to the patio door, "Nope, he's going to get cleaned up, too." Derek made a show of whining and succumbing to Lydia's terrible power, which made her look like she was going to melt as she looked from him to the little Stiles. Lydia could be heard asking what Stiles's favourite storybook was as she crazy walked with him in her arms up the stairs for the guest bathroom. Jackson smoothly tossed Derek pants as he shifted back, looking bemused at the whole thing. 

"So far, we haven't found anything that could be the cause. Lydia won't give up, though." 

Derek nodded, "Thanks," Scratching grass out of his hair, Derek caught the scent in enough time that his roar of "Stiles!" almost drowned out Lydia's call for him to come quick. Derek raced up the stairs faster than Jackson could react, running to the guest bathroom where Stiles's heart was beating like a hummingbird's and his breathing was shallow and short. His eyes were wet, but he was refusing to cry, and Derek picked him up immediately, hugging him close and checking over him for injury, "What happened?" He snapped out, looking from the innocuous bathtub to Lydia. 

"I don't know! He was getting a little freaked out, staring at the bathtub, it was like he was building up to a panic attack!" Derek cupped his hand behind Stiles's head, rubbing over the cold skin of his little bare back. Stiles's pants were still on, but his tiny little chest was exposed and Derek couldn't see or feel an injury. 

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry." Stiles gasped out. He was clinging around Derek's neck, and Derek backed out of the washroom, away from the tub without turning Stiles to it again. 

"Hey, it's okay." Derek rubbed his back, movements gentle, "Are you scared of the water?" Stiles nodded, sniffling, but there were still no tears, Stiles was a determined little kid. The terror that Derek could still smell souring Stiles's scent was beginning to alleviate a little, his hold around Derek's neck as tight as his little body could muster, and Derek wouldn't let him go until he was good and ready. "Can you shower instead? Is that what you do instead of having a bath?" Stiles nodded shakily again, and Derek nodded in response, "Okay. We're going to use my bathroom, then, because the shower's special and it'll make sure you don't slip. Lydia, can you put the shampoo and soap in the bottom of my shower?" Lydia bustled out of the bathroom with the children's supplies, nodding. 

"I'll call Scott and ask if he knows what's going on." Jackson muttered from down the hall. Derek nodded distractedly, slipping into his room after Lydia and sitting on the bed with Stiles.

"Stiles?" He asked softly, and Stiles hiccoughed, sniffing. 

"I-I just...I don't like the water." Stiles whimpered, so young and tiny. 

From the hallway, Jackson whispered, "Derek, you need to hear this," Derek focussed until the murmur of Scott's voice was clear, _"When Stiles was a baby, his great-Aunt or something tried to drown him in a bathtub. He's been scared of water ever since. The sheriff wrote him a note to make sure he didn't even have to learn to swim."_

Two hours. Stiles had held him up in a pool for _two hours_ , and he hadn't even learned how to swim? Stiles was petrified of the water, and he'd jumped in after him? Derek held Stiles tighter, his breath catching harshly at the implications of how horribly he'd let things with Stiles spiral out of his control. "You are my best friend, Stiles. You'll always be the best." Derek kissed his hair, standing up as Lydia came to linger in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom, looking like she'd melt again, "I'll be able to hear if there's anything wrong, okay? You're safe." Stiles kissed his cheek turning in his arms to look at the walk-in shower and nodding to himself. 

"Thank you." Derek set Stiles on his feet on the tiles, kneeling down so they were eye to eye. 

"You can be scared, Stiles. And if you need me, I want you to call for me. It's okay for you to be scared, and I'll help you, okay?" Stiles nodded slowly, sniffing and blinking tears away. He wobbled forwards, hugging Derek tight again before rocking away, pushing his little palm against the glass door experimentally and feeling the water with his hand. "Too hot?" 

Stiles shook his head, "No, it's fine, thank you." 

"Lydia put your clothes right here, but she'll help you put them on when you're done, okay, just wait for her." Stiles nodded, and Derek reluctantly let Stiles out of his sight, leaving the door halfway open and turning to Lydia and Jackson's pale faces where they sat on the end of his bed. "Did either of you know he was afraid of water?" They both shook their heads sadly, Jackson looking slightly green. "Did Scott mention anything else we should try to avoid?" 

"I think it won't be long until Scott shows up here again." Jackson admitted, "He's furious that we Shanghaied him, and I highly doubt much else is getting through to him other than that Stiles is here, and Scott doesn't trust you." Derek snorted, because the feeling was utterly mutual, and Jackson's lips twitched. 

"After he's done and I get him dressed, I'll take him down for lunch while you're cleaning up, and I'll try to explain some of this to him. He's exceptionally smart, he probably already understands some of what's going on." Lydia looked down at her clasped hands, nervous, "Derek...Will you be able to do this--?"

"For however long is necessary. Until we can get him back to the right age, figure out what's done this to him. I don't want to leave him with Scott, or anyone else. Until we know what did this, and until we put it in the ground, he isn't safe enough with anyone else." Lydia looked like she wanted to say something, but she ducked her head, pressing her lips together. 

"I can't reach the tap!" Stiles called from inside the bathroom. 

"You done, buddy?" Lydia yelled back, and smiled as his little voice carried back the "yeah". She stood up, slipping past Derek. "Oh! You're so close! I think it won't be long before you'd be tall enough to reach the tap yourself." 

"I hope so. I wanna be tall like Derek." 

Lydia took down one of the monstrously huge, fluffy towels and wrapped Stiles in it, biting back a laugh at how oversized it was, swallowing the little guy whole, "You cold?" He nodded, shivering, and Lydia gave him a kiss on the forehead then held her cheek out for a kiss from him, "Gotta get those lips away from being blue!" She teased, using some of the towel to rub his hair a little. "If we get you into some pants, I'll show you how to wrap a towel around your head. How's that sound?" Stiles nodded profusely, shuffling in the towel burrito. She bit her lip to stop from laughing, scooping him up and grabbing the clothes, walking into the bedroom where Derek and Jackson didn't seem to have moved, "Derek, your turn in the shower. Jackson, shoo." Standing him shakily on the bed, Lydia showed him his new outfit, pursing her lips and nodding her head to make him giggle. Derek chuckled, rubbing his hand through Stiles's hair before he turned for the bathroom. Stiles tilted his head, staring at Derek's retreating back, and Lydia glanced back at the tattoo, her lips pulling in a quick wince. "Yeah, it's pretty. I'm sure later he'll let you poke it." Stiles looked up at her in a cartoonish mask of confusion, "Stop being so darn adorable, or I'm going to want to keep you." He crinkled his nose at her, and Lydia shook her head, her laughter tinkling like crystal. "Alright. Undies first." Stiles nodded like it was a mission of utmost importance, kicking his feet out from under himself and wriggling his way into his underwear, then pants, giggling wildly when she pretended to nip at his ankles, tickling him expertly. They got downstairs and Lydia sat Stiles down to cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches, "Stiles...we don't know how it happened, but, with us in this time, you're supposed to be eighteen." 

Stiles nodded, "I thought so." He took a bite way bigger than his mouth should have been capable of, smiling around stuffed cheeks. 

"For now, we can't tell your daddy, because he doesn't know that it'd be possible. So, if it's okay with you, we wanted to leave you here with Derek while we sort out what happened and work out a way to get big-you back and make sure that nothing else will happen to you. Is that okay?" Stiles's face went grave, his nod deadly serious, "We'll take care of you, and we'll make sure nothing happens to you." Stiles turned in his seat, squirming a little awkwardly as Derek came down the stairs in loose sweats. He bit his lip, and Lydia flashed with intuition, taking in how much more relaxed Derek became just as soon as he saw Stiles. "Stiles, I don't think Derek's had enough hugs today." 

"How many are enough hugs?" Stiles asked like it was of the utmost importance, and Derek didn't even really object to Stiles's sliding down from the table and coming to wrap his arms around Derek's leg. Derek reached down, dislodging him and sinking to kneel and hug him properly, looking confused at Lydia. 

"You're right! There's no such thing as enough hugs, so you'll have to hug Derek a _lot_!" Lydia gasped like it was the end of the world. Stiles hugged Derek tighter because of the gravity of the situation, wearing a protective pout. Derek brought Stiles up with him as he stood, hooking one arm under him expertly. He trusted Lydia to help him out on what Stiles needed, and if he needed more hugs, Derek could do that. "He knows how to touch you when you're four-legged and fluffy, and that it's okay to touch you. He wasn't sure what he was allowed to do with you two-legged and manly." Lydia chuckled softly. Stiles scowled at her, and she scowled right back, mockingly. 

Derek laughed, shrugging around him, catching his eye, "Hugging is good. You don't have to feel weird about hugging." Derek sat down with Stiles still tucked up under one arm, "Now, what's this I hear about you wanting to be as tall as me?" 

Stiles and Derek cuddled up together in the living room with a bag full of books and movies, Lydia kissing Stiles goodbye to go back to her research. Derek nipped at Stiles's shoulder as he read _Where the Wild Things Are_ , making him giggle and squirm. By the third book, Stiles was a small bundle of sleeping warmth against Derek's chest. Derek reached up to the quilt on the back of the couch, dragging it down and covering them both, his hand big enough that it felt like he covered Stiles's back completely. "I'll keep you safe, Stiles. No matter what, I'll make sure you're safe and happy from now on." Derek sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself think about the mess he'd made of Stiles's life. Stiles hadn't stumbled once, hadn't faltered, no matter how scared he'd been. It felt like Derek owed him everything, even more than he'd felt that before. Derek wanted Stiles safe and happy with a desperation that left him breathless, he owed him that at the very least. Derek started feeling his body go lax, the sweet warmth of Stiles's tiny form soothing him into a doze, his little fist tight in Derek's sweatshirt. Derek let Stiles sleep, drifting in and out of his own doze, until the sun was low enough in the sky that it was getting close to dinner time. Stiles moaned, waking up peacefully enough, and Derek grinned down at him, "If we don't tell Lydia, I think we could order a pizza. Sound good?"

"I like pizza!" 

"What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni? Artichokes? Anchovies? Squid? Sausage? Yams? Do you like yams on your pizza?" 

Stiles pulled a disgusted face, leaning away from Derek as he carried the sleepyhead into the kitchen, setting him on the counter and pulling up the menu for pizza. "I like lotsa cheese. Just cheese." 

"Just cheese? Alright, we'll get just cheese." Derek agreed, leaning over the counter and resting his forehead against Stiles's little shoulder, dialling while Stiles tried to wriggle and squirm out from under him. Derek ordered smoothly, setting the phone down. He turned his head, growling in an entirely human way before nuzzling hard into Stiles's chest and pulling his shirt, blowing a raspberry against his belly. Stiles screamed, struggling to get away even before Derek plucked him up, tickling him mercilessly. "You gonna tell me anything I want to know, little screamer?" 

"Never!" Stiles crowed, still giggling. He giggled even harder as Derek blew another raspberry on his belly, miming that he was eating Stiles from the tummy out. Stiles's little hands smacked at his head, trying to get him to stop even though he wanted him to keep tickling. Derek cradled him in his arms for a minute, grinning down at him, only to scoop him up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, spinning around as he "searched" for the suddenly-missing little giggle machine. 

"I never thought you'd be this good with kids." Chris Argent commented dryly from the doorway, and Stiles screamed, terrified and surprised. Derek reacted instinctually again, his eyes bleeding red as he snarled at him. He smirked, hefting the crossbow, and Stiles squirmed from his place on Derek's shoulder, turning to look and then dropping in front of Derek's chest, yelling. He dropped as he let the bolt loose, and Derek's hands had never moved faster, catching the poison-soaked bolt before it could hit Stiles's tiny shoulder, blocking its path to Derek's heart. Stiles was hiccoughing, petrified and shaking, and the next thing Derek knew, Boyd was throwing another hunter through the patio door in a shower of glass, the hunter having snuck up to Derek's turned back while Chris had been the distraction. 

Derek could feel the rage rearing up in him, and Stiles's tiny sobs weren't helping him keep them at bay, his little body curled up in Derek's arms as he clung to Derek's neck. "YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT ATTACKING DEREK WOULD WIN YOU STILES?!" Lydia bellowed, her eyes the colour of poison and her skin liquid-paper pale with rage as the cavalry arrived in its entirety. Stiles flinched, hiding his face in Derek's chest and trying to breathe. It wasn't working very well. Erica and Isaac had the hunter pinned, Boyd and Jackson containing Chris. Derek tucked Stiles tighter against his body, the wolf snarling that they'd managed to hide their scents from him, and Stiles's giggles had drowned out their heartbeats. But berating himself would have to wait, because Stiles was petrified, and he had to get him calmed down.

"Lydia, you take care of this. Take them out the back when you're done, Stiles and I will be out front." Derek ordered quietly and calmly, passing Chris Argent without so much as a growl, keeping Stiles's head gently tucked against his shoulder so that he didn't have to see either of the people that had attacked them. Derek sat down on the porch swing, rubbing Stiles's back as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head, "It's okay. We're both safe, Stiles, it's okay. I'll never let anyone hurt you, Stiles, I love you too much. You're my best friend. It's okay. It's okay. You were really brave, Stiles, but please never do that to me again." Derek adjusted his grip on Stiles's tiny body, hugging like he could attach Stiles to him, keep him _safe_ , like he was supposed to. "You're not in trouble, and I'm not mad. All that matters is that you're safe. It's okay." 

Stiles sniffed mightily, turning his head so his cheek was pressed against Derek's chest, his ear in the vicinity of his heart, "I-I love you, t-too." Stiles told him simply, cuddling into his chest. 

Derek listened to the scene in the kitchen, put at ease about Stiles's heart because he could feel it beating against his hand, tucked into the crook of his arm. "You were so brave." Derek whispered, still desperate, his hands checking for injury gently and finding none. Stiles frowned up at him, propping himself up enough to kiss Derek's cheek, hugging him around the neck. 

"'M okay." Stiles told him. Derek could hear Lydia throwing them out of his house through the back, and stood, going in the front to avoid Stiles seeing them again. "Why did they try to shoot you?" Stiles asked. 

"Because of the wolf. They don't like people like me." Stiles's expression went dark, and he leaned forwards against Derek's chest, cuddling in. "It's okay, though, Stiles." Stiles shook his head against Derek's chest, and Derek nudged him gently, "You love me, though, right?" he teased. Stiles peaked upwards, looking stormily serious as he nodded.

"I love you. More than Scott, different than mommy and daddy, but so much." Stiles had tears in his eyes. "I hate them because they want to hurt you." 

Derek swallowed with more difficulty than he could ever admit, ignoring his shaking hands as Lydia and the others came back in, Boyd sweeping up the broken glass, nodding and smiling at Stiles, trying to catch his eye from where Stiles's face was back buried in Derek's chest, "They won't come back, they won't try to hurt Derek again…" Isaac told him smoothly, holding himself out for a hug. There was no way in hell anyone could deny Isaac a hug, so Stiles pulled away from Derek at last, letting Isaac grab him up for about thirty seconds before he started to squirm. "I'm Isaac, Stiles, and that big guy is Boyd, and that's Erica." Stiles waved shyly, hooking an arm around Derek's leg and huddling close. 

"Nice to meet you all." Stiles murmured, his eyes huge and vigilant. 

"They won't hurt us, Stiles." The doorbell rang, and Stiles flinched, hugging Derek's leg tighter. Derek reached down, placing his hand on the top of Stiles's head, soothing, "It's just our pizza, buddy."

Lydia made a noise of annoyance, but Derek ignored her, letting Isaac take his wallet and go to the door. "You two should put on a movie with your pizza." 

Stiles looked up at Derek, looking hopeful, and Derek grinned and nodded. "You guys taking off?" 

"We came to talk about security shifts to make sure nothing like this happened. We'll work it out between us, though. Your focus is Stiles." Lydia told him sternly, like she was the Alpha here. 

Derek accepted it, because just then, he wouldn't trust Stiles with anyone else in the world, and he knew that talking about their security would only make Stiles anxious that they'd get hurt. Derek took the pizza, sliding Isaac another thirty dollars on top of the twenty he'd already taken, "Get dinner. And thank you, guys." Derek took Stiles's hand and the pizza, balancing two plates on top. He stopped off at the bag of things Lydia had brought for them, picking out a movie at random and leading Stiles to the guest room, setting him up on the bed while he put the movie in, grabbing a slice for each of them. Stiles climbed over to sit almost on Derek's lap, cuddled up close while he tore his eyes off of Derek as though he'd disappear. Derek put his arm around him, setting his plate in his lap and eating with one hand while he rubbed Stiles's back, the fragile little body under his hand pushing closer into him even while he watched the movie. By the time they'd finished dinner, Stiles was a curl of warmth on Derek's stomach, his eyes on the television, but his mind buzzing almost loud enough for Derek to hear; far, far away from _Beauty and the Beast_. As apropos as it was, Derek wanted to turn it off, to get Stiles to start talking, to get a chance to make him start giggling again. He hadn't even lost his mother yet, and Stiles was so much older than his body; so much more grown than he should have been. "Stiles, I'm going to shift. When I do, get on my back and hold on, I want to go somewhere with you." Stiles looked up, nodding. He climbed off Derek's lap, kneeling on the bed while Derek went into the en suite and stripped, shifting and loping back out. Stiles crawled off of the bed, onto Derek's back, his little arms wrapped around as much of Derek as he could reach, hands curled into fists in his fur. 

Stiles's heart was beating out of his chest, fear and nervousness darting through his scent. It was precarious, but Stiles trusted him that he wouldn't let him fall off, or risk that he'd get hurt. The trust sat warm in his chest, heavy and resolute, but so incredibly good that it almost hurt. 

It was getting to moonrise by the time they reached the lakeside, and Derek slowed, laying down to let Stiles climb off and trotting to his hidey-hole of extra clothes for full moon runs. He sprinted back, tossing Stiles up and tucking him close. He walked towards the water's edge and sat down with Stiles hugged against him, kissing his cheek, "You're scared of the water," Derek murmured, eyes on the water, "if I took you into the water and taught you how to swim, would it make you less scared?" 

Stiles's eyes were huge. He swallowed slowly, biting his lower lip. "I...I think I would...be less scared. I-If it was you." Stiles whispered. 

Derek nodded slowly, sitting with his feet in the water, putting Stiles in the cradle of his legs so that his feet were in the water, too. Just his feet. Stiles slowly leaned his head back against Derek's bare chest. "You're the bravest person I've ever met, Stiles." As it was, Stiles wasn't practiced this young. He couldn't pick up the earth-shattering sincerity in it, but it was there. 

"My head doesn't go so fast with you." Stiles murmured, sleepy. "It feels good." 

Derek rubbed his hand softly through Stiles's hair, "I like being around you, too."

Derek shifted back into the wolf, curling up around Stiles as they slept under the stars until the early hours before a summertime dawn. Derek scooped Stiles into his human arms and carried him home as the sun rose, getting him out of his little jeans and tucked under the blankets, shifting back into the wolf once he'd cleaned up, curling up around Stiles on the bed as he had the night before. Stiles turned over, sliding closer and wrapping around him like he was a teddy bear, and Derek actually couldn't be happier about that. They slept in late after their day of excitement, even with the nap, and Stiles want to let Derek out of his sight, convinced that he could protect him so long as he knew where he was. Derek packed up a bag of supplies for a picnic and a day out by the lake, his smile indulgent as he found Lydia had bought Stiles a pair of bathing shorts as if she'd known he'd be taking him swimming. "I swear, she has the ability to predict the future, she just uses her awesome powers for evil!" Derek laughed as Stiles wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. 

"She's nice, though!" Stiles pushed his little feet into his shoes, letting Derek scoop him up and set him on the floor, "If girls could be best friends, then Scott wouldn't be my best anymore."

Stiles took Derek's hand, walking through the back patio door, the plastic Boyd had put over the hole in the glass flapping lazily in the wind. Derek would take care of that later, though. "Alright, it's a long walk from here to the lake when I'm not the wolf. So if you get tired, tell me, and I'll pick you up, okay?" Stiles nodded, trouping over to the stairs and arduously climbing his way down. When they both reached the backyard, Derek took Stiles's hand, leading down a trail the wolves had made over the course of many full moons. "Girls can be best friends, you know. You might want to tell Lydia that she beat Scott out." Derek told him, an oddly tight feeling in his chest that already Stiles's little crush was forming. 

"Okay. But you're still better than both of them." Stiles told him easily. Stiles wobbled atop a moss-covered log, and Derek's arms were ready and open at just a glimpse of his unsteadiness, Stiles leaping off the log into him with a devilish little smile, "You're my favourite." Stiles told him earnestly, his little hands on Derek's shoulders. Stiles turned his head and kissed Derek's cheek, hugging him tight. He leaned back, ready to be put down after that, and Derek had to bite down on a laugh at the imperiousness of it. "Were we friends before I turned little?" 

"Yeah, we were. But not very good friends."

"Why?" 

Derek didn't have a whole lot of answer for that. He knew why the older Stiles wouldn't pick him: He was mean and violent. He wasn't a people-person, even less so a person who was likely to put up with and actively enjoy having someone like Stiles Stilinski around. The thing was, though; he did enjoy it. He liked this little guy, and he'd probably like Stiles at eighteen, too, if he'd let himself. The kid was too talkative by half, but usually it was saying things Derek was actually thinking. "I was being silly before. Scott doesn't like me, so I thought you wouldn't, either, so I made sure I stayed away." 

Stiles's features twisted into a scowl, and he took Derek's hand with a resolution that had Derek smirking to himself: he wouldn't be letting go of Derek's hand by choice any time soon. "No being silly anymore, then." 

Hours later, Stiles was mimicking how Derek was laying over his towel to warm up in the sunlight, giggling as Derek peered down out of the corner of his eye, grinning. "Water?"

"Still scary, but you'll protect me." Stiles told him. He'd been insistent about this, no matter how many times Derek had told him he could do it on his own. All in all, Derek didn't really care, it was the principle of the matter. They'd made it up to lower thigh before Derek just let him stand in the water, his heartbeat slowly evening out again. 

"I will protect you, you're right." Derek groaned, sitting up and twisting around to tickle Stiles's sides until he was shrieking, pulling him up and holding him close, "You want to stay out here for your nap?" Stiles shook his head, but cuddled into Derek anyway, "You did great today, buddy, I'm proud of you." 

Derek carried Stiles most of the way home, his little head nodding down to Derek's shoulder as he started to drift off, only to startle himself awake a moment later, blinking his big brown eyes tiredly. 

Scott's car was parked alongside Sitles's Jeep, the omega sitting with Isaac on the front porch looking petulant, "Derek, where the hell were you--"

"Hello, Scott, thanks for covering with the Sheriff while Lydia, who is my pack, sorts out what happened while we keep your girlfriend's father from trying to kill me in front of a three-year-old who put himself in the path of a crossbow bolt to try to keep me safe. What can I do for you this evening?" Derek cocked his head to one side, keeping his gaze on Scott while Isaac tried not to snort with laughter. 

Scott looked away, chastised, and he took a deep breath, "Allison was out of line sending them here, but she doesn't like the though of you being near a child, and neither do--" Scott cut off as Stiles wriggled his way out of Derek's arms, stomping over to him. 

"You are a mean-face, and I don't like big-you at all! You've changed!" Stiles yelled at him, glaring. "Derek's nice and he protects me and he takes care of me! He's my bestest best friend, and he loves me! Stop trying to take me away, or I...I'll never speak to you again!" Stiles punched Scott in the thigh, storming into the house. Derek could hear him throw himself down on the rug in the entertainment room, and he immediately followed, uncaring if Scott and Isaac did or didn't. 

The sour look on Stiles's face actually kind of warmed Derek's heart. His little arms were crossed over his chest, and he was scowling across the room. Derek sat down on the couch, and it took five seconds before Stiles was climbing up to sit with him, leaning against his side. 

"I know 'm in trouble for saying mean things to Scott, but I don't like it that he's saying mean things about you." Stiles told him petulantly, and Derek smiled. 

"Do you really feel like that, though?" Stiles thought about it for a moment and then nodded, not looking at Derek still. "I'm sorry you feel like that. Scott's been your best friend for as long as I've known you." 

Stiles's features twisted, a small sound of distress in his throat, and he came easily when Derek pulled him into a hug, "If he was really my best friend, he'd listen to me instead of being mean to you." 

"It's okay, Stiles: I can take him being mean to me. But I don't like it that you're so sad right now." Derek wiped away tears and kissed the tip of Stiles's nose, "How about this: Scott can be silly all he wants, and you and I will ignore it, because you're not going anywhere unless you want to. I'm betting Scott's pretty silly already." 

Stiles nodded sagely, his eyes drooping a little because it was past naptime, "He kept trying to growl and say he was a puppy…" 

"So can we ignore Scott being silly?" Stiles nodded slowly again, this time his eyes staying closed. Derek tucked him in his arms, standing up carefully and looking up to find Isaac and Scott in the doorway. He didn't care, too worn around the edges, and he passed them both silently, carrying Stiles upstairs to bed easily. Derek tucked him in, kissing his hair softly, and leaving the door open behind him as he went back downstairs. Isaac had snagged their backpack of supplies off the banister and was busily unloading everything, the silence between Scott and him pointed and angry. "The only attack there's been was Chris Argent, not whatever caused this. He's safer here than he is with you, and if that weren't the case, Scott, I would have sent him home with you from the word go. I'm more powerful than you are, I have more experience with children than you do, I have my pack to back me up, and this house was built here to be defensible." The land had been chosen for that reason for the original Hale house, and it'd been kept for this Hale house for that reason as well. It was only partly self-flagellation that kept him here, contrary to Stiles's popular belief. 

"It's like you're a different person with him…" Scott murmured, almost inaudible. 

Derek took a deep breath, remembering a conversation in the kitchen of the old house with Laura what felt like lifetimes ago, "When you're taking care of a child, you have to put all of your crap behind you. The most important thing in the world is the kid you're looking after, and you have to believe nothing else matters, because none of it matters when you care about the little one you're taking care of. The most important thing in the world is loving them and letting them be who they are." Derek shrugged, "Some people can let go of everything else until their whole world is that kid in their arms. Some people can't. But the child, I can promise you, knows when you're not really doing it." 

Scott looked shocked that Derek could even say something so heartfelt, and Derek was not amused, though it was better than being called a monster or a murderer. Scott slowly withdrew from his apoplexy, clearing his throat, "I...I won't try to take Stiles from you again. I'll see if Allison will let up, too." 

"Thank you." Derek said simply, most of his attention on the heartbeat and breathing of the boy upstairs, "Now, I'm teaching him how to swim, but is there anything else that we should know?" 

Scott looked shocked all over again, and Derek bit down on the urge to roll his eyes, moving instead to make himself a cup of coffee. "Uh...well...I guess you've already seen him have the nightmares." Derek looked up at Scott sharply, shaking his head once, confident that Stiles's heartbeat would've given away if he'd been having a nightmare. Scott's eyebrows raised, "Well, he has chronic nightmares. Screaming, kicking, the works." 

"He hasn't had a nightmare since he's been here, then." Derek listened to Stiles's heart rate upstairs, the small noises whimpered out, "But I think he might be having one right now." Derek took the stairs two at a time, sliding up to the bed and shifting an arm under Stiles's little body. He moaned in his sleep, curling up against Derek's bicep. Scott came to stand in the doorway, looking amazed. "I've been holding him every time he's slept here." 

"And he hasn't had a single nightmare?" Derek shook his head, and Scott looked amazed. "I won't come after you." Stiles stirred quietly, his eyelashes dark smudges on his cheeks, "I'll make sure no one else tries to, either." 

Their lives fell into a routine after that, Lydia unable to figure out what had happened, and a few days turned into a week. Derek was getting ready for bed after a long, but good, day of teaching Stiles how to swim, proud of how far they'd gotten--the doggie paddle had been the cause of giggles for an hour as Derek had come up with every single dog joke Stiles and Laura had thrown out there that could be appropriate for children--when he heard Stiles's breathing change, a small sob in the back of his throat. Derek pulled his sweats back on, listening intently as Stiles cried quietly into his pillow, sniffling and whining softly, "I want my mom...I love Derek, but I miss my mom and dad." Derek opened the door slowly, his heart shrieking painfully in his chest. His hands were shaking slightly, his breath catching as Stiles tried desperately to clean himself up and hide that he was crying. Derek had slept as the wolf beside Stiles every night, and most naptimes. It felt safer. He'd cuddled with his family as a human: he'd let Laura sneak into his bed and cry into his shoulder as a human. Holding little Stiles in his arms while he slept just made it so clear how easily he could be ripped from human arms. He moved silently over to the bed, laying down and pulling Stiles over to him easily, tucked under his arm and half-sprawled over his chest. Derek traced where the tears had been with gentle fingers, catching Stiles under the chin to pull Stiles's eyes up. 

"I wish I knew how to get you back to them, to get my Stiles back." Derek swallows, and his throat clicks, his breath catching unsteadily, "I know how hard it is to be away from your family." Derek pressed against his closing throat, forcing it out, "A long time ago, my family died in a fire." Derek brushed his fingers through Stiles's hair, rubbing over his forehead. Stiles looked aghast, but he stayed silent as Derek gave him a look, "It makes me scared, sometimes. Not just of fire, though. I'm scared...to lose people. I don't want to lose anyone else." Stiles rubbed his face into the soft, worn cloth of Derek's undershirt, sadness pouring off of him along with a fierce undertone of something Derek knew but couldn't place. Stiles's little fist curled in his shirt, right against his heart, and brown eyes looked up at him with a determination it was a miracle hadn't killed the kid yet. "For a long time, I made myself be alone, because it was safer than risking that there was anyone to lose. But then...I met this kid, and his best friend. He was so brave it was silly, and he saved my life and cared about me even when I was mean to him. We weren't the best of friends, because I...I was scared to lose him, of everyone I could lose."

"Me?" 

Derek nodded solemnly, "I should have done what I came here to do years ago, and then left. But I stayed. Because of you, and how much Scott was a part of your family. I didn't want you to lose your family, so I stayed to help Scott, and ended up with a family of my own." Derek actually hadn't realized any of that until he'd spoken the words, and then he realized just how true they were. 

Stiles held him tight, nuzzling into him, "I'm sorry." He whispered. Derek hushed him, rubbing over his back. "When I get big again, I want you to tell me. To be my friend still. Please?" Derek brushed his thumb over Stiles's lip to stop the tremble, looking him right in the eye. 

"I will, Stiles. I'll work hard and see if I can even beat Scott again." Derek murmured, smiling to himself. Stiles laughed softly, his eyes fluttering and then staying closed. 

Derek should have known that the proverbial levee was about to break. 

The sheriff's cruiser roared into the gravel driveway as Derek caught Stiles from falling over with a now oft-used grip of teeth in the back of Stiles's shirt, setting him back on his feet and wuffling at him to go slow. Stiles didn't go slow. He bolted out of the front door and took a flying leap into his father's arms, the great, storm-grey wolf on his heels. Derek skidded to a stop, situating himself while the sheriff looked from his three-year-old son to the house to the wolf with a look that spoke of heart failure and a very pissed off Stiles once they got him big again. Derek shifted back with one hand bunched in the blanket they had on the porch swing from drinking hot cocoa the night before, pulling it around himself before anyone got an eyeful. "Sheriff." Derek muttered stiffly. 

The sheriff was a frankly alarming shade of red, verging on purple, but Stiles thumped him on the chest, pouting, "Don't be mad at Derek! Derek's taking care of me and keeping me safe! I love Derek as much as you love mommy!" Derek stopped breathing for a moment, trying to convince himself that Stiles didn't know just how much the sheriff loved his wife. Judging by the way the sheriff's eyes widened, though, that wasn't the case at all, and Derek ached with how far under his skin Stiles had managed to get. Stiles wriggled until the sheriff set him down, and then he ran to Derek, putting his tiny hand firmly in Derek's, his jaw set like he was taking a stand. 

The sheriff blinked slowly at his little boy, then looked up at Derek, still fumbling for something--anything--to say or do to keep him from heart failure or shock, "You and I," the sheriff didn't sound like his heartbeat did, "need to have a talk, Mr. Hale." 

Derek ended up in his kitchen, with Stiles set up with his colouring on the floor, sitting across from Sheriff Stilinski, arduously going through the last few years and telling him everything he could about what had happened, the miracles his son had performed for them, and how invaluable Stiles had been, saving the lives of those he loved and those he hated and growing into someone the sheriff could be proud of if Stiles had been allowed to tell his father. "This happened at the bonfire, the night after their graduation. We can't figure out how or why. Usually, Stiles is the one we turn to when we don't know what we're doing. I'm sorry we've had to hide it from you, sir, but...the fewer people who know, the less likely we are to be attacked."

The sheriff looked down at his son, the picture of his mom, dad, and himself standing in front of their house with a big, grey blob of a wolf wrapped around Stiles and smiling rather disconcertingly making his heart hurt in his chest, "I'm...I'm proud of you. For taking care of these kids. And I'm beyond proud of him. I can't tell you how worried I was…" 

Stiles turned his head, smiling absently at his father while he got up, bolting for the door again. 

Derek and the sheriff ran after him, concerned as they heard him shout out. It was shouting out for joy, though, and both men's hearts stopped as they watched the tall, eighteen-year-old Stiles Stilinski twirl the giggling three-year-old around between outstretched arms. The little boy was talking a mile a minute about Derek and how good he was, Lydia and how she'd replaced Scott, Scott and how he might not be so terrible, and how proud the sheriff was of them, his happiness like sunlight. The elder Stiles looked up at the sheriff and his dad, smile small and soft and real. Stiles tucked his younger self against his hip as Derek had done so often over the last few weeks, walking up the steps to stand across from Derek, staring into his eyes. "Miss me, sourwolf?"

Relief, Stiles had told him after the fairy debacle, is an utter bitch. You can't prepare for it; there's no guarding against it, and no telling how it's going to hit you, where it's going to leave you shaking and disoriented. This time, relief hit him in such a way that he was shaking and disoriented with Stiles's mouth slotted against his, his reedy body leaned against Derek's as something between them wriggled and gagged dramatically. Right, there was a three-year-old and a father present. Derek forced himself to stop, hating Stiles's tiny smile for how badly he wanted to kiss it off his face. Stiles snorted, jiggling his younger self in punishment for causing the kiss to end, "Kissing on the mouth is gross! Aunt Mildred always pinches our cheeks and kisses us on the mouth, and it's gross!" 

Stiles laughed, "Yes, you're right. But Derek doesn't kiss like Aunt Mildred. And I love him." 

Stiles looked from his older self, to Derek, a small smile on his mouth, too, "I know."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How It Ends and Begins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/556690) by [YoukeyH (Vampisticated)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampisticated/pseuds/YoukeyH)




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